Welcome to Calliope Town! Established in July 2015, our community seeks to capture the simple charm of the Harvest Moon video game series while providing a relaxed, friendly atmosphere for roleplayers. Although we draw inspiration from the games, no prior knowledge is necessary to jump into our little world. If you want, think of us as a slice-of-life roleplay!

Leira opened the oven, the heat that billowed out causing her hair to lift slightly. She leaned in, taking a small knife and cutting a small slice into the chicken, but it was as she suspected, and still slightly pink. She pulled away, shutting the oven door and tapping the button on the top to reset the time for a few more minutes. She brushed her hands off as she stood, glancing around the kitchen. Everything was set, and looked perfect. The table in the small dining nook was set elaborately, with a candle on each side of the table, not yet lit but ready for the match to strike. In between were the plates and glasses, a water glass and a wine glass, the latter of which was empty. At least until she served dessert.

Leira smiled as she slid a hand through her hair, and turned to go to the bedroom to throw something else on besides her lounge pants. She opted for jeans and a nice top, thinking that a dress or skirt would be too formal, and a little awkward. It was only a 'Thank you for saving my ass' dinner, after all. That didn't stop her from brushing on a little bit of makeup, though.

Leira finished brushing her hair just as the timer on the oven went off, and she set down the brush and rushed to the kitchen before the chicken could burn. As she opened the oven, she could see that the chicken was indeed done, and she smiled at it. The smell was wonderful, and she grabbed her mitts to pull the hot pan out of the oven and set it gently on top of the stove, waving the steam away to get a look at her creation.

"Perfect," She said, beaming, even as she poked a slice with a clean knife to double check that there wasn't any pink left. She grabbed the bowl of fresh salad, setting it on the table, letting the chicken cool on the stove a bit before she laid it out. She glanced at the clock, and realized it was nearly time for Merrick to show up. She did another scan of the room and realized everything was perfect just before she heard the brief knock on the door.

Heart suddenly in her throat, she brushed a hand over her hair as she went to the door, pulling it open, and smiling.

Merrick, despite how his calm demeanour made him appear, was incredibly nervous. He was having dinner with Leira, after all. Sure, there were no overtly romantic overtones - at least, as best as he could tell - but his mind would do nothing but wander. Usually, him helping someone out was met with a lot of thanking, and if the person he'd saved was feeling particularly generous, a letter sent to him and/or his superiors. And there Leira was, inviting him around for a home-cooked meal. Not just a night out at a restaurant - a meal she herself was making.

Once more, Merrick checked how he looked. He'd combed his hair, shaved, put on some cologne, more or less everything one would expect of someone that was going out on a date (despite it definitely not being a date in any way, shape or form). And, while the evening wouldn't be anything particularly formal, he still felt that dressing smartly suited him more than anything else. A shirt, jeans, and the jacket his parents had bought him for his birthday a year back were what he chose to show up in. Noting too fancy but it still came with an air of refinement he felt suited him.

He paused before he knocked. He knew full well she would be happy to have him there. She'd invited him in, after all. But something still ate away at the back of his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder. The thoughts were quickly cast aside, as he found himself knocking almost subconsciously. Leira had appeared before him, and despite her not wearing anything she considered particularly astounding, he found himself at a loss for words. It wasn't that he was quiet, it was that he just had no idea what to say upon seeing such a sight.

"I... can smell it from here." He replied. It was only a faint smell, but even so, it stood out against the ones he'd slowly been getting used to. That, and the cologne. "Smells good. Been too long since I've had your cooking."He wasn't about to admit it - not wanting to make it seem like he was rushing her - but just the aroma of the food wafting towards him, faint as it was, was enough to set off his hunger. She was a cook unlike any other, and he resolved to make sure she knew as much before the night was out.

Leira smiled and stepped back, inviting Merrick in silently, even as he said he could smell the food. She could, too, and it smelled wonderful. She didn't know what to say to his next comment, but only nodded. It had been a long time.

"Come on, I made something new," She said, leading him back into the kitchen. She'd forgotten to light the candles, but she figured they'd be fine without, they looked nice the way they were anyway. "Go ahead and sit. I'll bring over the chicken." She went to the stove, grabbing the mitts to bring the hot pan over. She set it on the table, giving Merrick another smile. "I've never tried this one before, so you'll have to tell me if its any good." The chicken was stuffed with spinach and feta cheese, and the salad was already waiting to be picked up and put on the plates.

"I hope you like it." She glanced at him. "I've got a Sorbet for dinner too. I've never actually made that before either, so I hope it isn't too bad." Leira had made the sorbet the day before, something she'd planned to treat herself with, but decided while she was working on it that she wanted to cook for Merrick as a way of thanks. So she'd called him to tell him, since walking was still a little difficult.

It'd only been about a week since she'd hurt her leg, and she'd been on forced desk duty. She'd had at least one officer threaten to sit on her if she'd tried to go on patrol. She knew she needed to keep off the leg, but it still bothered her a bit. It wasn't nearly as sore now though, and thankfully hadn't needed stitches.

As she dished food onto both of their plates, giving each a healthy serving of salad and a piece of chicken, there was still more than enough for seconds, and probably thirds.

"I might have made too much," She decided with a soft laugh. "It's a good thing I'd decided against the buttered rolls. We'd be too full for dessert. I've got wine to go with it, too."

Merrick cocked an eyebrow at her mentioning that she'd made something new. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised that she'd managed to get a new recipe or a few under her belt, given how long it'd been since that fateful day, but even so, he was intrigued as to what she'd cooked up. He could smell that it was chicken, but apart from that, he couldn't quite tell what she'd done to it. He was certain it'd taste fantastic, though."It'll be good. You're cooking it."

He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed upon learning that she hadn't made any buttered rolls. From what he could remember of them, her rolls were simply to die for. Warm, soft, fresh out of the over, with the butter melted just right on them... He could've had entire meals of just them on their own. If it wasn't for the fact that she'd always have something better lined up for him, he might just have. He was a little more apprehensive about the wine, though. He had a rather distinct feeling in his gut that a bottle of wine shared between them might lead to some rather... awkward... moments.

Nevertheless, he was eager to start eating."Looks good." he remarked. His eyes painted a much more detailed picture than his words - more specifically, through them focusing quite intently on the chicken. "What's in it?"Merrick wasn't half the cook that Leira was. He wasn't incompetent, not by any means. but she was far and away the better cook between the two of them - the most complicated thing he'd managed to cook without screwing up somehow was steak. And that just consisted of putting seasoning on a slab of meat and frying it for a few minutes.

Leira couldn't help the pleased smile and faint flush that crept across her cheeks at Merrick’s words. “You're too sweet,” she said with a soft laugh. “But wait to see if you like it before you start with the compliments.” Leira’s mouth was watering from the smell, and she wanted to dig right in, but she restrained herself.

As she finished passing the food out between them, she sat down and realized vaguely that she didn't feel nearly as nervous as she thought she would. Mostly, she just felt… Happy. Happy that he was there, across from her, eating the food she had made just for him.

“Spinach, feta cheese, and some herbs I rubbed the chicken with.” She was proud of her creation, and she cut off a small piece from the corner of her chicken and popped it into her mouth. She relaxed a little, not having realized she was tense until she tried it and realized it was pretty good. The chicken maybe was a little tough, but not bad.

She glanced at him, wondering what he thought. She speared a bite of salad, glad he didn't ask about that. She'd been forced to buy it in a bag at the market earlier that day. All of the lettuce looked mostly wilted by the time she gone looking for it.

“Did you hear the kids from the cave got grounded starting their summer vacation?” Leira asked. “Apparently their parents found out and flipped.” Her lips twitched into a half smile. “While you were out the other day, one of them was dragged up by his mother and was forced to apologize for ‘Being a little hooligan’,” she added, and laughed. “He was as red in the face as a boiled lobster and couldn't stop fidgeting. His mother told me that all of them were grounded until school started again after summer break.” She looked up at him, amused.

“I was just going to let them off with a good scare, but apparently their mother's had a different thought on the matter.”

Merrick simply replied with a short nod. The chicken looked splendid, and he didn't need any more prompting to dig in. He didn't want to appear too eager, though, so only a small amount was taken. And, while he knew that she'd not lost her touch from the moment the meat touched his tongue, he tried to appear natural as he chewed. He tried to look stoic, thoughtful, despite the smile gradually appearing on his lips. From what he remembered of what little he knew about the finer parts of cooking, chicken was a flavour sponge. And Leira had somehow managed to balance the flavours it'd taken in perfectly.

Merrick swallowed, and a bite of the salad soon followed. Premade though it was, he still had to commend her taste. The salad went perfectly with the chicken, and it was only Leira telling him about what happened with the kids that he'd stopped eating. He shrugged, an exasperated frown on his face."Suppose that's what you get. Seems a little harsh, but given what could've happened if they'd stayed there..."It didn't bear thinking about. He took some small comfort in the knowledge that it wouldn't happen again, though. Between them scaring the group senseless and the child's mother keeping them grounded, he was certain that they'd learnt their lesson.

He took another bite of the chicken, and looked at her, his lips curved ever so slightly upwards."Feta, right? Never thought that'd go well with chicken. Just didn't seem like the kind of thing you'd use with it. Suppose it depends on the herbs as well."He didn't really know what he was talking about. The last time he'd tried to cook any sort of poultry-related dish more complicated than baked chicken thighs, he'd had to call Leira and ask her to fix everything but the vegetables. He just wanted to tell her how much he was enjoying the food."You're amazing, you know that?" He said absentmindedly. It took him a moment to realise what he'd said, before he sputtered out a clarification. "T-the chicken, I mean. To cook something like that. You're amazing. It's amazing. Y-you know what I mean."

Leira gave a little shrug at Merrick's comment about the punishment being a little harsh. She partially agreed with him, though at the same time, a part of her could understand the mothers fear of losing her child. She wasn't a mother herself, obviously, but she'd seen that panic on the faces of mothers during the war. It made a pit open in her stomach every time she saw it. "Better grounded than what may have happened," She said. "Their mother also asked me to pass on her apologies to you as well, since she wasn't able to find you."

As she looked up from her plate, she saw him watching her, a small smile tilting the corners of his lips up just ever so slightly. Coming from him, it was like a brilliant smile from anyone else. She found the corners of her own lips lifting, smiling back, pleased he liked the food. "It's an old recipe I found in my moms things. I remember her cooking it when I was small, but I never tried it before myself. I'm glad you like it with the feta."

She took another bite, and narrowly avoided choking on it when his next comment had her throat freezing up. She couldn't even breathe for a second, and she knew she was gaping awkwardly at him. She closed her mouth after a second, managing to swallow her bite with the help of a bit of water from her glass. The initial shock wore off, and amusement rushed in to fill the void the shock left. She listened as he stumbled over his words, trying to correct what he said, before finally giving up. She couldn't resist the small laugh that escaped.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. But it was funny. I'll gladly accept being amazing, though." She smiled at him, laying down her fork as she realized she'd finished her chicken and the majority of her salad. She decided against seconds, so she could have enough room for dessert. "I am glad you like it, though. I'm pretty proud of it."

Despite her fairly benign reaction, Merrick couldn't help but face the plate instead of her, trying to hide his embarrassment behind his hair. Normally, he would have just brushed off the moment, and would have gone about with his day. but that was only with any other person. With Leira? That was a different story entirely. With her, he hated to admit it, but he couldn't help but be vulnerable. She'd bring down his guard, and though he'd try to hide it, the real him would come out. Not cold, just quiet. Clumsy, but only in how he spoke, not how he acted. He never felt like he had to pretend around her - despite her being the person he wanted to convince the most that he was alright.

He managed to get his head back on straight, though, and looked at her with a warm - if quite slight - smile."Should be. It's good chicken. Best you've done."It'd been years, but he still remembered how her food tasted. He didn't know why - he'd forgotten many things over the years, things about her included. And yet, something as simple as the taste of her cooking stuck with him. "Always were good at this. Never knew how. Couldn't do it myself."He didn't tell her that he never really tried. He had less calories going in than he had going out, and that was really all that mattered to him about his diet.

Merrick was a light eater at his hungriest, and it showed. Though he'd managed to eat more than Leira had, he still hadn't quite finished his food, and certainly had no room for seconds. He was just glad that dessert was going to be light... and that he'd have something to keep the wine from taking hold too soon."What was for dessert?" He asked, hoping he hadn't wrongly assumed that she'd finished eating too. "Think you said sorbet. Something like that."

Leira smiled back at him, her heart skipping a beat. That smile... She had missed it so much these last several years. "You really think so?" She asked, pleased when he said this was one of her best efforts of cooking. She gave a slight shrug. "I always helped my mother cook. She was even better than I am." She smiled, a little sad, but mostly fondly, at the memories of cooking with her mother almost from the time she could hold a spoon without making a mess with it. "My dad, though... He could burn water." She let out a quiet laugh. "I actually saw him nearly melt a pot, once. My mother was furious, he nearly set the house on fire." She still remembered that night like it was yesterday, the initial terror of the fire, then the hilarity of her mother yelling at her father for being so forgetful he nearly melted a pot.

As Merrick finished eating, Leira stood and began to gather the plates, smiling at his question about dessert. "Yeah. I found an easy recipe online on how to make it and thought I'd give it a shot." She took the plates to the sink, setting them inside. She'd run them in the dishwasher later. She went to the freezer, getting the sorbet, then grabbing the bottle of wine and a couple bowls.

"If you want, we can go sit in the living room to eat this. It'll be more comfortable, anyway." She offered him an empty bowl, and motioned for him to grab the wine glasses she left on the table. "I really hope this stuff is any good," She said, shifting the large bowl she'd made it in. "You'll have to be honest. I've not even tried it myself yet." She smiled as she lead him to the living room, setting the bowl on the table and grabbing the serving spoon to give each of them a scoop. "It looks good, at least."

Merrick wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to react to Leira's story. He wasn't entirely sure how anyone could make it to the point where a pot - something designed to take whatever heat a stove could provide it - was melting. Even he, someone that wasn't particularly good at cooking in any sense, was having a hard time picturing just how it had happened. He opened his mouth to question, but thought better of it, and just shook his head in mild disbelief."Good to know it doesn't run in the family. Not sure how I'd feel eating melted cookware."

Merrick couldn't help but watch the bowl as Leira took it from the freezer. He'd not actually had sorbet for as long as he could remember - he considered it too 'fancy' for his tastes, and had never really had a reason to buy it anyway. It'd gotten to the point where he'd actually forgotten what it looked like, so seeing her bring it out was a rather pleasant surprise. It looked to be a simple thing, but looks could be deceiving. Simple though the chicken and salad had appeared, it was absolutely divine, and he had no doubt the sorbet would be the same.

He nodded at her suggestion, and stood slowly."Let's. Should be nice."He didn't really see the point. Where they were was comfortable enough, and it wasn't like either of them really had to stretch to reach the bowl. But, if it made Leira happy, he was only too happy to follow along. He supposed that the chance to sit closer to Leira wasn't something he would mind passing up either.

A small amount of the sorbet was scooped from his bowl, and Merrick let it sit on his tongue. He'd have eaten it quickly, not having much of a taste for desserts, but Leira's dishes were always and exception."I like it. It's sweet. Subtle, but it's there."As if to prove his point, Merrick took his spoon to it again and let it melt, nodding slowly as he did so.

Leira snorted, amused. She could see he wanted to ask how he managed to nearly melt a pot, and wanted to humor him. "My mother and I had gone shopping, and my father had thought it would be a nice gesture to cook us dinner for when we got back. But you met my father. He was a great father, a great doctor, but when it came to anything but medicine, he was often forgetful. He completely forgot he'd put the pot on to boil, and left it there for Goddess knows how long. Mother caught it just in time, though it was a near thing."

Leira settled onto the couch, drawing her knees up underneath her comfortably, tucking her feet underneath her. It was only after she'd sat and gotten comfortable that she realized how closely she'd sat next to him, but thought it would be to awkward to move now. She looked up at him and smiled, pleased he seemed to like the sorbet. She tried a bite herself, and thought it could have been a little sweeter. But then again, she remembered Merrick didn't have much of a sweet tooth to begin with. "It isn't bad," She agreed.

Almost forgetting the wine, she leaned forward, setting her bowl down and pulling the cork out of the bottle. "I don't drink much, but this is one of my favorites." She didn't pour either of them much. She had an odd feeling that drinking too much around Merrick wouldn't end well, and she gave a little puzzled frown into the glass she held to her lips, wondering. The last time she'd gotten drunk with him was New Years, but that entire night was hazy.

She shifted her gaze to Merrick, taking a small sip of the wine. It was sweet, but dry, and she thought it went well with the sorbet. "Remember the bar where we met?" She asked, tilting her head a little, a slight smile on her lips. "This is the wine I was drinking that night. It was the first time I'd tried it, and instantly fell in love with it."

The time they'd first met. Merrick remembered it fondly - at least, the part where he punched out a guy that seemed to be harassing Leira. In retrospect, he supposed that she would've done so if he'd let her, but he supposed that neither of them were particularly unhappy that things had worked out the way that they did. Subconsciously, the memory made him touch his scar, a memory of the night that the two of them had bonded over some drunk hitting the floor. or maybe he wasn't drunk, and was just a tool in general.Regardless, the scar was reminder of the night they'd met. And, by extension, what they'd had together.

Briefly, the idea that it was akin to a wedding ring crossed his mind. A permanent reminder of what they had been before... well, before she'd left. He cast the thought out of his mind, but a subtle blush crept across his face, thinking about how it was still there and what it represented."It's a good wine." He said, in an attempt to distract himself - and, quite possibly, Leira - from his reaction to his thoughts about the scar. "Never liked drinking much. Few exceptions, though. Like this."He took a sip of it, letting the taste sit in his mouth a while. Not something he'd drink often, he thought, but he supposed it was nice on occasion.

"Strange night, that was."He didn't' really know what else to say. he'd said all he had to say about everything. He wasn't an especially good food critic - if he liked something (or, indeed, disliked it), he'd say so. All he could really do to keep the conversation that he could think of was bring that night up. "Glad I punched that guy, though."He waited a moment, and then scrambled to correct himself, thinking it made himself sound like a sadist. "I mean, it got us to meet."Merrick frowned and stared at the floor, deciding that the Earth opening up and swallowing him right then and there would not be a bad thing after all. "Forget it."

Leira watched as he reached up to touch the scar on his lip, and she could remember like it was yesterday how he had gotten it. From the smell of the bar, to the dim lights, to the jackass who couldn't take no for an answer. Everything was so vivid. The guy, his hand on her shoulder despite her doing her level best to get it off without hurting him. Leaning in for an unwanted kiss. Leira jerking away, ready to knock the guys block off, when a fist collided with the side of his cheek and he went flying. And there was Merrick, standing over the guy now on the floor, putting himself between Leira and the jackass.

Before Leira knew what was happening, the guy came up swinging with a broken beer bottle, and had sliced Merrick's lip. He'd knocked the guy out before Leira could react, but she did help stop the bleeding and got him to the ER to get him stitched up. His words brought Leira back to the present, and she blinked when he said he was glad he punched the guy. As he tried to explain what he meant, she just smiled at him, though he didn't see it as he looked down at the floor. Before she could stop herself, she reached out, grabbing his hand gently, twisting her fingers with his.

"I'm glad you punched him, too," She said, her eyes glinting with amusement at his flustered state. "I was getting ready to do the same thing, but I'm still glad you did. We might not have met if you hadn't." She squeezed his hand and leaned away, taking another sip of her wine, and flushing a little at how forward she was for grabbing his hand like that. Her cheeks burned a little more when she realized what she wanted to do was caress his cheek, running her fingers over his scar.

"Um... I'm glad you agreed to come tonight. I had fun cooking for you again."

Merrick almost smiled when she spoke, happy that she'd refrained from taunting him for speaking his mind like that. Even if it wasn't something he'd meant to let slip, he was glad her response was - at the very least - benign. His gaze returned to her general direction, and Merrick nodded slightly. Being there with her... it was nice. They didn't have to avoid each other. They wouldn't ever be together again, as much as it pained him to admit it. But that didn't mean they couldn't at least be friends with each other.

Leira's hand quickly shunted those thoughts from his mind. He glanced briefly down at her hand, as if to try and make certain that yes, she was holding his hand. Trying to make sure that it wasn't some sort of mistake on her part, and that she hadn't mistakenly grabbed his hand as she was going to take her glass or the sorbet. His eyes scanned the immediate area and confirmed that yes, she was holding his hand on purpose. That slight blush from earlier returned, and didn't seem to get any better as the seconds wore on.

"I... My pleasure. Was good to be here. Your cooking... I liked it. Be nice to do it again sometime."While he was usually quiet, and never really spoke much, Merrick's speech was far more awkward than it usually was. Leira hadn't let go of his hand, after all, and he hadn't the heart to pull it away from her. All he could do was direct his eyes away from the sight, in the vain hope of mitigating whatever embarrassment occurred from her keeping his hand in hers.

Leira could tell he was embarrassed by the way his speech became awkward. She figured she should have let go of his hand, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. His hand was warm and comforting, and so familiar. Plus, he hadn't pulled away. If he hadn't welcomed it, he'd have pulled away... Right? She had no idea, and she wondered if the wine was already starting to go to her head.

"What about next week?" She asked, feeling bold. Whether it was the wine or his words, she didn't know. She looked at him, giving him a shy smile. "You can come back next week and I can cook you something else... If you really want to." She suddenly regretted her bold words. If he said no, she knew it would be awkward between them again. She didn't want that.

She covered her embarrassment by taking another drink of her wine, and yes, she was starting to feel its effects just a little bit. She'd never been able to drink much without getting tipsy, which is part of the reason why she almost never drank anything. And why, exactly, had she thought that this was a good idea? Should have said no to the wine... I'm going to make an idiot out of myself soon, She thought with a slight wince that she covered by taking another small sip of the wine.